Due to the start of school, this story may not be finished in time.
Liam’s Intro:
With practiced ease, Liam vaulted up the cast iron gate. A rush of air tickled his ears as he flew over the edge and landed on the other side with a roll.
"Stop, thief!" A portly man, finely dressed and out of breath, stumbled down a neatly laid stone path towards the gate. Before he could reach it, he lumbered to a stop, hands on his knees. His head whipped around with a frantic shout. "Guards! Where are my guards?!"
Liam smirked and took off at a run, though he knew it was unnecessary. The wild hog that had "accidentally" let itself into that nobleman's house was sure to keep his personal guards entertained for a while. A leisurely stroll would be more than suffice to make a clean getaway. But that would be quite demeaning to the frenzied man watching him leave, and Liam didn't want to be rude.
Angry curse words followed Liam as he made his down the winding road, but before long they faded into silence. Gradually, Liam began to slow his pace until he fell into a comfortable walk. It wouldn't be long before he made it back to town, so Liam allowed himself a moment to enjoy his surroundings. The fresh, open air carried with it the chirps of birds and cicadas. A light breeze whispered across blades of wild grass. Overhead, the endless blue of the sky was broken by a single white cloud. There were no walls, no ceilings, no rules. No one to tell him what he could do or think. Out here, Liam submitted to no one's terms but his own.
Once the first sign of town came into view, Liam paused and reached under his cloak. Nimble fingers wrapped themselves around a cool, metal object and carefully drew it out. It was a chalice made almost entirely of gold. The base was adorned with elaborate etchings, most assuredly the work of renowned artisan. Dozens of glittering gemstones were laid carefully along the rim of the cup. Sunlight glinted brilliantly off its surface and created a dazzling display of reflected light. Perhaps Liam would have been impressed by it if it hadn't been so easy to find. But that was to be expected. The only purpose such a gaudy ornament served was to show off to the world how thickly lined its owner's—well, ex-owner's—pockets are. There was no mystery or story behind it, just a pretty trinket. How boring.
Not that it mattered; the chalice was simply a means to an end. What he planned to trade it for was far more valuable. This was merely the first step towards his final prize. Liam returned the chalice to its hiding spot and continued walking towards the town, a renewed sense of purpose fueling his steps. His heart thumped loudly in anticipation of the next leg in his journey. Where would it bring him next? Abandoned tombs? Distant deserts? Time would tell him very soon, but first, there was someone he had to meet.
Becca’s intro:
“How much longer?” Becca growled, slumping down in her chair and pushing her claws between her corset and body, a useless attempt to air herself out. The older maid tsked at the girl and pulled the horse hair brush harder, causing Becca to jolt backwards and her paws to fall from her top.
“It would take so long if you hadn't been wrestling in the mud up until the last minute! You knew your parents were coming, and now there is no time to bathe.” Hilda, the maid, laughed. Becca grinned at the gray haired kalon and jerked her head back into a more comfortable position.
“I know, I know. At least I remembered to hide my casual clothing and had the dress prepared before.” Becca glanced at the wall, her eyes tracing the outline of the loose stones that held her stash. Pants, tunics, books and more, each object holding a bit of her hidden life from the outside world. Becca had used to hide it all under her bed, but had switched after Lowell had been banished. The Captain had helped her take out the already loose stones and make a hidden compartment. More secure. Less risk of harm.
“Okay Bec, all done.” Becca lightly touched her hair, feeling her short hair and the silk bow Hilda always placed there.
“Presentable?” She asked, pulling a face that could only be described as monstrous. Hilda rolled her eyes and tsked once more. “As always, Your Highness.” The maid emphasized the last part, hinting at sarcasm. Becca laughed and swatted Hilda lightly on the shoulder.
The old maid had been through everything with Becca, and knew how important casualness was when they were alone. It was hard for Hilda at first, as she knew how strict regulations were with the Princess, but as Becca began to think for herself things changed. Becca knew the maid had slowly started to trust Bec not to tell on her and had opened up. Now Hilda adored their jesting. Becca lived for it. Hilda had raised her and been more of a mother than the Queen had ever been, and the playful bond between a child and their parent, even a stand in, was very important. The stableman had taught her that as Becca helped deliver a foal.
A trumpet blaring from outside broke the joyful atmosphere, but neither kalon jumped in surprise. “Ready?” Hilda said, placing a paw on Becca’s shoulder.
“Always am.” Becca mumbled, her face melting into emotionlessness. The pink kalon’s back stiffened and shoulders fell as she stood up, her feet evenly apart and her eyes downcast. Hilda pursed her lips and gave Becca’s back a final rub. The maid didn’t say anything, her paw was enough comfort to the shell that had just been Rebecca Dowings.
Liam’s Capture:
The tavern was always quiet around this time. It was the dead hour that came after lunch but before the evening drinking started. Only a handful of seats were occupied, most of them by beggars with nowhere else to be. They paid Liam little heed as he strode up to the bar. "Afternoon," he chirped to the bartender.
The bartender jumped at the sound of Liam's voice and looked up from the mugs he'd been cleaning, his eyes wide. "O-oh, welcome!" He was a bit of a scrawny kid who barely looked old enough to set foot in a bar, let alone work at one. "What can I get for you?"
"Actually, I'm here to speak with the tavern keeper," Liam replied, leaning over the counter. "We have a business arrangement to take care of."
The bartender stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "U-uh, alright. I'll go talk to her." He put down his mugs and vanished up a flight of stairs that was at the other end of the bar. Several long minutes later, he reappeared and waved Liam over. "You can go on up. She's waiting for you."
Liam thanked him and made his way up the rickety steps. The stairwell was rather small and made him feel claustrophobic, but fortunately it wasn't very long. At the top, middle-aged woman waited behind a doorway. Her face molded into a welcoming smile. "Come in, come in." She ushered Liam into the room, clearly enthused. "I must say, I didn't expect you back so soon." She eyed him with a skeptical gaze. "Do you actually have it?"
Wordlessly, Liam reached into his cloak and pulled out the chalice with a flourish. The woman gasped, seemingly wonderstruck. She slowly reached out to take it.
"Oh my..." Her breathless awe turned into a small laugh. "You actually went and did it. You stole the Duke's prized chalice. Do you have any idea what this is worth?"
"Plenty to you, I'm sure," Liam answered nonchalantly. "But I think you know what I'm really interested in."
The woman looked at him with an arched brow, then shrugged. "Well, I can't say you haven't earned it." She sauntered over to a chest at the end of the room. Carefully, she reached in and pulled out a faded piece of parchment. "Frankly, I think treasure maps are a load of nonsense. But a deal's a deal."
Liam gingerly took the parchment and unfolded it. His eyes scanned its surface intently, a smile forming on his lips. It was a map filled with countless markings and annotations. Some of the words were written in plain English, while others appeared to be written in code. Excitement gripped his chest. A mystery to solve, a new land to explore. This was to be his next big adventure. "It'll do," he said as he folded the map back up and tucked away. "Pleasure doing business."
"Likewise," the woman murmured. Her attention had returned to admiring the chalice. "I trust you can find your way out without any trouble."
Liam nodded, though the woman seemed to preoccupied to notice. He made his way down the cramped stairwell as quickly as he could, glad to reach the freedom of the tavern's spacious first floor. But before he could take another step, a forceful hand reached out and grabbed him by the arm.
"Th-that's him, the one on the posters!"
Liam whirled around in the direction of the voice. It took only a second for him to process the sight of two armored guards and the anxious bartender quivering behind them. Immediately Liam jerked to the side, managing to slip free of the guard's grip. However the second guard was ready for him and took hold of his other arm. A loud thud rang out as Liam's body was slammed against the wall. His head spun. The edges of his vision began to swim.
The other guard said something to the bartender, but Liam could make no sense of the words. Taking firm hold of both his arms, the guards half-led-half-dragged Liam out of the tavern. Outside waited a jet black horse-drawn carriage with heavy iron bars covering the tiny square windows. Emblazoned on each side was the family crest of the king and queen. It seemed to glower down at Liam as he passed it. He might've glowered back if he was being yanked along like a children's toy.
Once they reached the back of the carriage, the guards shoved Liam roughly inside. Liam landed with a groan, the throb in his head intensifying as he made contact with the hard wooden floor. The sound of the door slamming shut reverberated loudly, echoing in Liam's hazy mind. Strangely, it reminded him of the way he would often slam doors as a kid when he was upset. Of course this always made his parents angry, which only made him want to slam doors even more. "I wonder how angry they'll be about this door," he murmured dazedly to himself before drifting off into darkness.
Becca-
Late lunches were probably Becca’s least favorite mealtimes. Not that the kalon had anything against lunch or it being late, but it usually meant her mother’s fur had been pet the wrong way. The Queen hated eating on an angry stomach, so would often push lunch back a few hours until she composed herself. Sadly, Queen Rachel usually held bits of tension in her spine even after calming down and loved to take it out on the family. If a servant dared to ask her if she was okay, the royal purple kalon would deliver a cold and shaky, “I’m fine.” Today was no different. Rachel was clenching her firsts around her fork and knife, yet stared repulsively at her food, refusing to eat. The family sat in silence, Becca and the King both trying not to catch the Queen’s eye.
After almost 20 minutes of this, Rebecca pushed her plate forward at bit and glanced at her father, trying to ignore the empty chair that stood between them. Her composure stayed flat, but her eyes asked to be excused. King Michael was far from a good father, but he knew how he felt and also wanted an excuse to leave. Rebecca’s mouth twitched slightly at the glee of her little manipulation, but she quickly deadpanned before anyone could see. Her father would only do something if he benefited from it, and this Princess had learned to use every bit of it to her advantage. It was one of the things that kept her from going crazy around these two villains.
The King coughed a little, dabbing his fur with his linen napkin. “Well my dear, that list finally came in, I’m sure Rebecca would like to see it. I will take her to the Solar to review it, hm?”
The Queen's ears perked up slightly as Becca’s eyes fell. The list. Becca was far past the age of normal marriage, but it had been put aside as she was not the heir, her father waiting for the most “delicious” deal to present itself. Sadly, he thought about it too long and the heir jumped the coop. He then had to wait years until the neighboring Kingdom’s boys came of age, not wanting to marry his daughter to a man who would die well before Rebecca, causing complications.Sadly, Michael's pickiness was now more urgent and he had compiled a list of the current princes, all being around 14 years of age.
“Of course Michael. Just make sure she doesn’t get too attached to any names.” The Queen responded, emphasizing the ‘she’. The review was just a formality of course, Becca had no say. “Chin up dearie, Michael will find a very powerful boy for your hand. What do we always say?” Becca sucked in a tight breath before smiling sweetly at her mother.
“What greater boon then power to our great family?” The disgusting words dripped through Becca’s teeth like dirty wax, clinging to her canines and sticking to her lips, but the Kalon held her smile until the Queen nodded. Michael then extended his paw to Becca and she gracefully took it, avoiding her mother’s stare. The saying had lifted the Queen’s spirits, so Becca knew she had a little sway for the next hour or so.
As they exited the dining hall, Michael dropped Becca’s paw with a flourish. “We can look at the list later my dear, I have some… things to do.” Becca did not flinch, this behavior being normal for the King.
“Yes father.” A curtsy followed, a smile, then Becca was free. Lifting her skirts, the pink Kalon began to run, not wanting to be near anyone who carried allegiance to power and money. She had no destination, just a need for a touch of freedom.
-------
Rebecca let herself collapse against the castle wall, the cool stone soaking up her sweat. She would have to take Hilda up on that bath before dinner as her mother would surely notice the smell of her “darling” daughter. The princess didn't mind sweat, stench, and dirt, it was a byproduct of hard work. Well, physical work at least. As Becca sat lost in her thoughts, two guards walked by, their Dowings emblems shining in the touch light.
“Her Majesty didn’t react very well. I thought she was going to kill Avery when he told her.” The dark furred guard said, pushing some hair behind his ear. “Think we'll have an execution?”
The word execution caught Becca’s interest, and she pushed away her thoughts. Wanting to hear more, the princess tucked in her tail and rolled towards a darker part of the wall. Her movements would have been heard if not for the second guard’s laugh.
“Jus’ an execution? Ha! Do you know how long she been tryin’ to get ‘im? Nah, I’m thinkin’ torture and then beheadin’. She’s gonna want to make sure the Lords an’ Ladies know that no ties exist between the rogue prince and ‘is family anymore.” The taller guard put an arm around his dark blue friend. “Who knows? Maybe ‘ill put the Queen in a good mood and we’ll get some extra grain an’ beer.”
“Hopefully, but you know how her son used to rub her Majesty the wrong way. Depending on what he says she could be thrown into a rage.”
The guards’ voices slowly got too faint for Becca to hear, but that snippet was enough. Prince? Son? They caught William? Becca hadn't seen her brother in years and assumed he was off in a faraway land on exciting quests and missions. She had often fantasized about his adventures, often inserting herself in the best ones. Yet somehow, her imagined “invincible” brother was about to be executed? Tortured? There was no one else it could be, but Becca had to check. The princess stood up, her legs slightly shaky with shock, and made her way to the guards’ quarters. She had some strings to pull.
Liam:
(Conversation with parents)
Becca:
Sneaks down after parents leave
Liam + Becca:
Talk
Liam:
Sneaking out of the main castle
Becca:
Getting through the castle wall
Both:
Scot free!
(Collab picture)
